


Albatross

by Guanin



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-05
Updated: 2014-11-05
Packaged: 2018-02-24 04:31:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2568272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Guanin/pseuds/Guanin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim couldn't detach himself from Cobblepot, no matter how much he wanted to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Albatross

Harvey called him Jim’s pet.

“The Penguin. He’s more like your damn dog with the way he follows you everywhere.”

Any attempts to get Harvey to stop were rebuffed and hung to dry with another icy glare reminding Jim about that time when he almost got them killed by the mob for not following the rules and killing “that crazy psycho like you were supposed to. It’s not like he’s a wilting innocent, Jim. He’s killed plenty himself.”

And Jim knew that. He knew it perfectly well when he held Oswald’s trembling body at the edge of the pier and nudged his gun away to shoot in the air. He knew that if their circumstances had been reversed Oswald would have stabbed and kicked and beat him with that gleeful shark’s grin dancing on his face like when Jim first saw him holding a steel bat over a broken man, his defense of “all good fun” the total truth in his eyes. Oswald still killed, still maimed, still took that knife he hid in his coat and slashed through flesh with no remorse, no feeling, no mercy. To him, people were just stepping stones on his way to becoming one of the kingpins in Gotham’s criminal underworld, nothing more. 

He tried not to let Jim see it, he knew that, scrambled to summon only that winning smile that begged to be mistaken for innocence, but every once in a while it would slip and the monster that lurked beneath would flare to the surface in a furious glare that would strip away skin if it could. 

He caught Oswald glaring that way once at Bullock when Jim met him to get a tip on his latest case. As much as he avoided telling Harvey why he had to run off behind an alleyway for five minutes while Harvey got them hot dogs, Harvey was a good detective, and it was hardly a stretch to guess that "your pet is waiting around the corner." Clearly, Oswald heard him, for Jim saw his face before he fully rounded said corner and it was fixed on Harvey, his mouth set in a hard scowl, eyes heated and furious as his right hand clenched inside his trouser pocket, obviously clutching that knife that Jim had seen in a flash of metal a few weeks earlier when someone had startled them in a different alley. Oswald had hidden it out of sight as soon as the pedestrian passed by, and neither of them mentioned the reflex that had prompted Oswald to draw it out. But now Oswald was contemplating using it on Jim’s partner. 

"Oswald," Jim said, voice as hard and unyielding as Oswald's face, which immediately melted into his ingratiating smile, nervousness flickering on his lips as he recognized the anger in Jim's. 

"Jim," he said, "Hi. I--"

Jim grabbed him by the shoulder, dragging him out of sight of the street and leaned in, drying the greeting on Oswald's tongue with a fierce glower.

"Don't you ever look at my partner that way again," he said. "Do you understand me?"

"I would never hurt him," Oswald said, voice pliant, hands held in front of him in supplication, trying to look like the innocent he never was. "Surely you know that, James."

"Ever."

"Of course. I understand. It's just, when he called me your pet, it upset me, and--"

"I don't care. That does not give you the right to look at him like you're going to kill him while my back is turned."

"I wouldn't.” Oswald’s eyes widened in fear. “I would never harm anyone you care about, I swear to you. I would rather cut my own veins than hurt you."

Jim huffed at the melodramatic declaration, not believing it for a second.

"You don't believe me," Oswald said, looking as if Jim had insulted his dignity.

"Oswald, you lie for a living," Jim said, stepping away from him.

"Not to you. Never to you. Name me one time when I've lied to you."

"That I know of?"

Oswald hesitated, confession enough.

"There are certain things that I cannot speak to you about. That is true, but so is the case with you. I've never lied outright."

"You would cut your own veins for me? Really?"

"Perhaps I'm a little enthusiastic with my language, but the sentiment is genuine, I assure you. I would never hurt you or cause you to be hurt. So your partner has nothing to fear from me, I swear. Truly."

Jim wanted to believe him. He needed to believe him. For there were only two ways from preventing Oswald from killing whoever he wanted. Either arrest him or kill him, and Jim hadn't been willing to do the later even when all he knew about the man was that he was a mobster who beat people for fun. As for arresting him, well, first he needed a charge that would stick. And then there was that little detail where Falcone spared Jim’s life only as a favor to Oswald. That was the catch. Jim owed Oswald his life. So, as much as it sickened him to associate with a man like this, he couldn’t put him away. 

He had tried to distance himself from this series of life debts that lied between them. He told Oswald that they were even now, that they could both go their own way, but Oswald refused to acknowledge that Jim owed him anything at all.

_I will always be grateful to you, James. You should know that. We're friends, aren't we? There's no point scoring between friends._

Friends. Not a word that Jim would have ever associated with a person like Oswald. Jim was honest, forthright, and decent, and his friends had been so, too. Mostly. A little south of the mark sometimes, but nowhere near Oswald's level. It left a sour taste in his mouth to think that a man like this could ever be considered his friend. Even calling him a work colleague felt uncomfortable, though the shoe definitely fit. God, did it fit. 

_It's just work_ , he told himself. Oswald gave him tips that helped him close cases. The fact that said cases also aided Oswald in his climb up the criminal ladder was something he strove very hard to ignore. 

Oswald might truly be grateful. Or he might just be using Jim's position in the GCPD to further his own gain. Probably the latter. The only clear thing was this: Jim couldn't trust him, but he couldn't afford not to.

"Alright," Jim said, just keeping his shoulders from slumping in defeat as he contemplated how many hours before his shift was over and he could have a drink and seek to eradicate this conversation from his memory.

"You believe me?" Oswald asked, perking up as he took a shuffling step forward, eyes wide with hope.

"I'm choosing to.” Damned if he did and damned if he didn’t. “Don't disappoint me."

"I won't. You have nothing to fear from me, I swear to you."

Jim dearly hoped that wasn't a lie. 

What Harvey didn’t understand was that Oswald wasn’t Jim’s pet, he was the albatross slung around his neck.


End file.
